Young Criminal
by Cry-Of-A-Warp-Engine
Summary: When you take it all from her, break her heart and destroy her innocence, how far will a young girl go?
1. Starting At The End

There was a girl...

This life had been all she'd ever known.

You can try to escape it, but it always catches up to you...

Some ways worse than others.

Pain.

Fear.

Hate.

For this girl, they were part of everyday life in Liberty City...

Her name was Fayette.

* * *

"Let's go home, Fay." Niko, my father, says. I have to nod in agreement, this has all been a bit too much for me. With everything that has happened in the past 4 weeks, I need a damn good rest.

"Yeah... let's go home, I want to go to bed for a month." I say, Niko laughing a little. We exit the Rotterdam tower, stepping out into the busy street as the lights turned red, multiple yellow taxis, civilian cars and even a few of Uncle Roman's taxis stopping at the large T junction to our right. Niko goes to the orange Pegassi Infernus, pressing a button on his key and making the doors automatically unlock.

Just as I step towards the car, I feel a sudden sharp pain in my side. It's a deep, stabbing pain, like something just went right into me...

I move my hand to my side, seeing a quickly growing patch of blood in my light blue T shirt, a small hole near my heart...

Everything goes out of focus suddenly, the only thing I register clearly is that I've fallen down on the sidewalk. People were looking in horror as they saw me, Niko running over and saying things, though I couldn't understand anything. My vision was blurred, my hearing was scrambled... this is really going to hurt because of my allergies, the three of them that I hate the most...

Morphine

Antiseptic

And somehow, very rarely seen but it's there in me, an allergy to Anaesthetic.

It's weird, some of the things I'm allergic to, like the fact that I'm technically allergic to the sunlight. I have to cover my skin a lot in the summer when the weather is hot, though thankfully it's winter right now...

Though for me, bleeding out on the sidewalk in the snow, winter might not be such a good thing for once.

I can't separate any sounds anymore, all sounding like one slurred noise, though I do recognise the flashing blue and red lights as an ambulance pulls up.

Once again, not for the first time, the memories appear in my head of an England Victorian barmaid. I still have no idea how I generated those memories after the car accident which very nearly killed me, but things went crazy after that. For about two weeks I hadn't remembered anything and had to meet everyone for the first time again, then somehow 2 weeks after the accident I hit my head getting out of bed, passed out and when I woke up, I'd not only forgotten everything again but thought I was a Victorian barmaid.

The problem with passing out... is that you feel it. Every moment of it.

And you don't... dream...

Maybe we should just... start from the beginning... yes...

I'll just... pass out... while you find out exactly what just happened...

Yes... that sounds... much... better...

For me, it all goes black as the paramedics move me to the stretcher...


	2. Maisonette 9

It started on a cold Saturday...

Saturday. For kids, the first day of the weekend, the first of two weekly days off school. For adults, just another work day.

For me, this Saturday was the start of something that would change my life forever.

"Hey Fay, you okay babe?" Luis says as I step into Maisonette 9. I always wondered where the 9 came from, where's Maisonette 1 to 8?

"Yeah, just got bored, wanted to see you." I say, going up on my tip toes and kissing him.

"Well hey, come down here, I'll buy you a drink." Luis says, leading me down the stairs and to the bar, buying me a cola. I take a sip from it as Luis sits down next to me, placing his arm around my back.

"Just gets a little loud in the house, with new baby Carol constantly demanding to be fed and waking us up in the night." I say, Luis laughing a little.

"You know you can sleep at mine if you can't sleep at home. My home is yours, I keep telling you that." Luis says. He's always great to me like that.

"Thanks, Luis... I love you." I say, the two of us kissing again before an intoxicated yell from upstairs made him get up. I turned around, sipping some more of my drink as I look around the club, seeing many people drinking or dancing. I never was good in crowds but I'm okay when I'm with Luis. I remember 3 months ago, when I turned 15, he decided to take me with him on a vacation to Vice City for a week, which was where we got closer.

Time really does change people.

I remember after I was attacked that I thought I'd never get close with anyone ever again... look at me now, with Luis.

14 years old, someone decided to give me a massive scar in my chest, knock me out and sexually abuse me while I was unconscious... And what happened afterwards didn't help...

 **04/23/14, Acter Industrial...**

"Fay? Are you okay?" 19 year old Jet says, Fay looking at him, tears running down her face. She'd needed to get away from everything, and Fay being Fay, she only had thin T shirts or tank tops so the 21 stitches in her chest were fully visible. "Who did this to you?!"

"I... I don't... know... It hurt so much..." Fay says, Jet carefully wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry into his shoulder.

"Come on, it's too cold to be out here." Jet says, Fay nodding before they both walk to Jet's older model Coquette, getting in and driving off.

"Fay... you're safe with me, I swear... I'll never leave you." Jet says, Fay nodding.

"Thank you..." Fay says, Jet reaching over and lightly stroking her hair for a moment before his hand flew back to the steering wheel as he swerved out of the way of a driver coming down the wrong side of the road.

The Coquette wend skidding off of the road, going through a wooden fence and right over the edge, falling down and landing in the freezing water.

Fay regained consciousness quickly, trying to open the door but as hard as she pushed, it wouldn't open and the car was still sinking quickly, the water rapidly entering through the door edges and air conditioning vents. Fay took in one last breath and held it before returning to the door, the fact that the car was full meaning the door cow opened.

She reached over and unbuckled Jet, pulling him with her as she slowly managed to swim upwards. She surfaced, gasping for air briefly before swimming across to the nearby boat ramp, pulling Jet up and out of the water.

"Jet, come on! Don't do this to me, please!" Fay says, trying to wake Jet up. She ran up to the road, waving her arms and yelling for help as an LCPD patrol car approached, the two officers getting out, one calling for an ambulance.

"Get this girl in the car and warmed up... wait, she's injured!" One officer says, Fay looking down and seeing that some of her stitches had broken, blood seeping out of her chest...

 **Present time, Fay's P.O.V**

14 of the 21 stitches broke that day... Even now, just over a year later, I'm still not the same person. I've still not really recovered... just... learnt to feel the emotions, but not show them. But then again, I always feel better around Luis.

"That guy... you know him?" A man says, walking over to me.

"I know Luis, yeah-" I say before the guy grabs me... I don't need help to know the feeling of a .359 revolver pressed against my back.

"GET OFF HER!" Luis yells, running down the stairs and grabbing the guy, twisting his arm and making him drop the gun before throwing him down on the floor, people running as Luis picked up the revolver and pointed it at him.

I cover my face and turn away, unable to stop a scream as Luis fires the revolver. I jolt a little as I feel his hands rest on my sides, pulling me into his arms.

"It's okay, baby girl... you're okay." Luis says, rubbing one hand up and down my back...

"For a second... I felt like... I was back there, in that street..." I say.

We stay there for a few minutes before Luis takes me outside to his car, a modified Super GT. We drive to his house, where he takes me inside.

"Right... you go have a rest, you're damn tired." Luis says. I nod before going to the bedroom, taking off my jumper and jeans, now in just my underwear and my black and white number 56 T shirt before getting into the bed, pulling the covers up over me.

At least here, I can get some sleep... that was scary, I felt like I was back in the alleyway at 14... what he did to me while I was unconscious... I'm not sure I could ever forgive for that... The stab wound in my chest was enough, but then knocking me out and shoving his... I felt the pain though... when I woke up just afterwards, him gone and me bleeding down there and from my chest...

I've never felt so much pain in my life. And I hope, I really hope, that I never feel pain like that again.


	3. Hard To Like Myself

Fay's P.O.V

"I thought you'd never wake up." Luis says as I step into the living room, still in just my underwear and number 56 T shirt but I put on one of his dressing gowns, though it's way too big. "You wearing my clothes? Maybe I should buy a few things your size if you're gonna be staying here sometimes."

"Well... I'm cold." I say.

"Hey, your tiny thin limbs feel any tiny bit of cold." Luis says. I walk over to the couch, sitting down next to him.

"Well, can't help that. Better this than like my uncle used to be." I say, Luis laughing a little.

"Well, you luckily got more of your mother's side than your father's." Luis says. I look very similar to my mother Kate, same build, relatively similar height at 15, her deep emerald eyes and dark blonde hair which apparently comes from my great grandmother Emma.

"Well... I suppose I did get a good mix of them." I say.

"Yeah... you came out alright... perfect, I'd say." Luis says. I kiss him before getting up and going to the bathroom, turning on the shower and starting to take my clothes off... but then, in just my underwear, a quick glance is all it takes to turn my full attention to the mirror.

I lean on the sink, looking in the mirror at the girl on the other side, looking at the large scar right across the chest, the tiny thin arms... and the face. The face of a 15 year old, older before her time...

How can this be me?

Why is it so hard to like myself?

There are times when I try to, but... I just can't...

"Fay?" Luis says, walking up behind me. He pulls me into his arms, lightly stroking my hair. Whenever I even look at the scar, it brings up tears. Ever since it happened, I hate myself. 2 years and I still can't look at myself in the mirror.

"I... I hate it..." I say tearfully, Luis keeping his arms around me. Every time I see that scar, it reminds me of that night... I just can't forget...

Maybe there's someone else out there like me. Who am I kidding? In the 7 billion people on this planet, I can't be the only one who was... violated... as a kid, or has a deeply hated scar.

Or hates themself... enough to do-

"Fay... I thought you stopped doing this to yourself." Luis says after seeing the multiple knife cuts on my arm. Yeah... there are times I hate myself enough to do that to myself.

"I just... I try but... I can't stop myself..." I say.

"Hurting yourself won't make things any better, Fay... it only makes it worse." Luis says. I look down at the many scars on my arm. There must be at least 30, I've never counted... maybe I should. Okay... 1... 2...

37?! That's counting the new ones. He's right, I do need to stop. But that number... 37, it always follows me. Why does 37 follow me?!

That guy attacked me on the 37th day of the year, and my 37th day of being 13... yeah, my birthday is on the 1st of January. Well, 5 minutes before midnight on the 31st of December, but we always say it's on New Year's Day.

But the 31st, 5 minutes before the 1st... put those numbers together, it's 37. What is with 37?!

I shake off those thoughts for now, Luis keeping his arms around me for a few more minutes before I've fully calmed down and he goes back to the living room. I remove the last of my clothes and step into the running shower, the water as hot as I can bare.

As it runs down me, I look at my tattoo. It's on my right upper arm, the words 'Youth will survive' with a bloodied knife cutting some letters off, turning it to 'You will survive', the 'th' cracked and fallen below the rest. I got it after the attack, showing that 'Youth will survive' doesn't apply anymore, but I still have to use what's left of it to carry on...

Not going too well.

When I finally exit the shower and get dressed, I find a note on the living room table, Luis gone.

 _'Had to go save Tony's ass again, get home safe.'_

Since the Playboy X penthouse where me, Mom, Dad and my siblings live is only around the corner, I walk home.

"Okay, where have you been?" Dad says as I walk in, closing the door behind me.

"Guy pulled a gun on me in Maisonette, I stayed at Luis's for the night." I say. I know that ever since they first met, Dad and Luis haven't exactly gotten along together. Then again, their first meeting was when Dad robbed a bank with the Mcreary brothers, then Luis was looking at Niko down an AK47's iron sight, then they were dealing the diamonds for some girl. Then as far as I know, they didn't meet again until Dad tracked my phone to Luis's house when I was with him once.

"You alright?" Dad says. I nod before taking my shoes off and sitting down on the couch, watching as Top Gear starts.

I stay there for a while until I hear distant gunfire, running out to the balcony and using my brother Jet's pair of binoculars, seeing gunmen firing on Herculies club. That's where Luis will be, right in the middle of everything.

I stay there for a while, watching before going back inside. Anyone else would've called him up, but he wouldn't answer in a gunfight and he'll be fine anyway. He's Luis Lopez, the tank of LC.


	4. Where It Started

He keeps watching me... and following me, this is creeping me out!

The guy is rather big and tall, probably at least 6ft... I'm only small, only 5ft 1. If he wants what I think he does...

That would hurt beyond what I can imagine.

Quickly, I walk faster, turning into an alleyway... before being grabbed from behind and pushed up against the wall.

"Well, you little thing... you gonna go with me, or do I take by force?"

"NO! DON'T HURT ME, PLEASE!" I scream... saying that only makes him smile before he reveals a switchblade, the small knife flipping out of the handle and briefly reflecting the light from the sky... cold is getting to me from the wall I'm against, the snow at my feet melting a little, freezing water soaking in through my shoes...

I scream in agony as the switchblade goes into my chest.

He drags it across, blood falling, the pain worse with every second. Someone... end this... please...

"Much better... now..."

He reaches down, using the switchblade and cutting, my jeans falling down... he pulls the panties down himself...

Then it all goes black... but it's like I can still feel it...

The sudden burst of pain down there as he pushes himself inside...

I wake up slowly... there's still blood covering me and the pain... I'm... I'm gonna die here... freeze to death or bleed to death... death full stop.

I welcome it.

* * *

So there... now you know what happened to me.

"You alright?" Dad asks.

"Yeah... the past... isn't nice." I say, looking down at my chest, seeing the large scar going across it... then I remember a quote William Shakespeare once said...

 _'Scars remind us that the past was real.'_

I don't want it to be real! Why can't it just be a dream?! Why can't I just wake up as a 14 year old and run instead of walk quickly, stop it from happening?!

WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE IN THE ALLEYWAY?!

"I... hate the past." I say, Dad sitting down next to me.

"That should never have happened to you, baby girl." Dad says.

"No... it shouldn't have." I say, resting my head on his shoulder.

Nightmares are tough... the past is tougher.

I'm forever damaged by that... I'll never fully recover. I've hardly recovered... at all.

There are days when I'm alright... days when I hate myself enough to cut my arm with a knife...

Then there are days when I want to die.

* * *

 **A year ago...**

I run out onto the roof, around the penthouse to the back... it's only been a week...

The wall.

I climb up on the edge, looking down many meters... the fall will kill me...

Good. I want it to.

"Fay! Just... come here." Dad says, reaching his arms out...

"Dad... I can't do this... it's too much..." I say, though it's more like a cry, tears rolling down my face. He slowly walks towards me.

"DAD!" I scream as my foot slips. He reaches me just in time, grabbing my ankle and pulling me back, into his arms.

I start crying heavily... This isn't right... It hurt too much, it still hurts, it will never stop hurting...

Until I die.

* * *

 **Present time.**

That's why I do this... I hurt myself to block the previous pain... but it never goes away. We all need something to take away our pain.

But maybe this isn't working... I try to stop, but it's not that simple. And when it doesn't act simple, I write notes.

So I do that right now. I get my note pad and pen, which I'm surprised still works after I stabbed it into my arm, and begin to write.

 _'I'M FINE (I'm not fine, please help me.) I'M JUST TIRED (I can't take this anymore.) I ALREADY ATE (I starve myself.) GO AWAY (Show me you care enough to stay.) I'M JUST COLD (I don't want you to see my scars.) I'M BETTER, I PROMISE (I've never been this bad.) I'M OKAY (I just want to die.)'_

And that's the sort of thing I think of... I need to stop this, one of these days, I really am gonna kill myself!


End file.
